


Miles to Go

by Pixelatrix



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 13:03:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5541098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixelatrix/pseuds/Pixelatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles Shepard finds visiting a certain mercenary on the new Normandy makes being brought back from the dead easier to deal with.  She hadn't expected to find romance amidst the stories, whiskey and cigars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miles to Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nortonn7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nortonn7/gifts).



> Gift Fic.
> 
> The prompt for this was for a Zaeed Massani/Female Shepard.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy.
> 
> Reviews & Kudos are my drug. =)
> 
> This is a oneshot and not related to any of my other stories.

There were fourteen generations of Miles Shepards who had served in the marines.  So when Miles Shepard the umpteenth had a daughter—despite his wife’s protests—she was named Miles.  He had been inordinately proud of the family legacy.  He unfortunately hadn’t considered the ramifications of naming his daughter not to follow tradition.

Life in the academy on Arcturus and late during boot camp had at times been hell. “What’s the matter, Shepard, daddy want a boy?’ ‘When is your beard going to grow in, Miles?’  She’d heard every iteration of the jokes about her name.  It left her with thick skin—perfect for handling the politics of being an officer. 

It also left her with a massive chip on her shoulder.

To some in the Alliance, Miles Shepard would _always_ remain the pretty girl with a man’s name playing at being a soldier to make her father happy.  Her heroics on Elysium and reaching N7 hadn’t silenced the worst of her doubters.  They only saw her sleek, dark brown hair, perfect almost porcelain skin, plump red lips and deep brown eyes.

Even after bringing Saren and his geth army to their knees, Miles had faced criticism.  She’d been the one to lead her crew where others had been stopped by red tape and fear.  They’d been the successful ones. 

It had left her disillusioned with the admiralty.  Miles had finally realized nothing would ever be enough for them.   While still disenchanted, she was able to let go of her need for their approval.  No point in holding for something which would never happen.

Her father, on the other hand, had been incredibly proud of his daughter.   To him, it was yet another example of the Shepard legacy.  Her mother had rolled her eyes at her husband then pulled her child into a long hug.

And then.

Miles died, on a mission which the _Normandy_ shouldn’t have been on in the first place.  She had argued fiercely with Admiral Hackett and Councillor Anderson to no avail.  They’d been sent to the far reaches to hunt for an invisible enemy and they’d become the hunted instead.

It had been all flames and explosions. Gasping for air.  Then nothing.

Cerberus.

Her father had once investigated the organization before his retirement.  Miles hadn’t been overly thrilled with waking up to find herself in a Cerberus facility.  She’d also been disoriented by the whole not being dead thing.

It had taken a lot of convincing for her not to immediately tell the Illusive Man and his crew to take a short walk into a thresher maw nest.   Even the familiar faces on the new _Normandy_ hadn’t allayed her fears like Lawson had likely expected them to.   She’d always distrusted anything which seemed too convenient.

Miles had first begun visiting Zaeed Massani out of boredom—mostly.  He also had a healthy cynical approach to Cerberus.  She’d appreciated his abrasive honesty.  He also didn’t treat her like dying had diminished her ability to think.

He also told the best stories, stocked the best whiskey and didn’t bitch about her smoking his cigars.  They’d sit on crates, trading tales from the past.  It didn’t hurt that the rest of the crew preferred to avoid the man at all costs.

Along with Garrus, Miles rarely left the _Normandy_ without Zaeed.  Mordin seemed better suited to working in his lab.  She wouldn’t trust _any_ Cerberus operative with a gun to have her back not even a former Alliance marine. 

She missed her parents.   It had been safer though to avoid them.  There was enough scrutiny on the suddenly resurrected Commander.  Her mother and father didn’t need to be dragged through media hell as well.

Her father had sent her a ‘congrats on living up to Shepard infamy’ after she’d decked the reporter for harassing her.  Not her proudest moment.  Her mother hadn’t been as thrilled by it.

_Definitely better to avoid her parents for a while longer._

“You keep comin’ down here—I’ll run out of whiskey.” Zaeed seemed to find her overly long swing straight from the bottle amusing. “Reunion with the boy scout not go well?”

She grimaced at the reminder of Horizon and Kaidan.  “Not quite.”

Kaidan Alenko hadn’t been the man she remembered.  Or maybe, it would be more fair to say that Miles was no longer the women she’d been before the Normandy exploded in a ball of flame.  Being dead had changed her—beyond the simple physical changes.

She could understand Kaidan’s reticence.  He had been there when they’d discovered the disturbing research done by the Cerberus scientist. They’d found Admiral Kahoku’s body together.

His harsh words had hurt.  And left no room for misunderstanding on where they stood.  Then again, Miles had felt stirrings towards someone else for weeks now.  She’d been too uncertain to make a move though.

Zaeed lit a cigar then offered it to her—drawing her away from thoughts she probably shouldn’t be dwelling on. “He’s the wrong sort of man for you, sweetheart.”

“Oh?”

“Alliance types.”

Miles pointed to the N7 tattoo on her right index fingers.  She’d gotten all of her ink redone—hoping to make her body feel like her own. “I’m Alliance or used to be.”

“You’re a warrior, Shepard. Not a goddamn ‘take orders’ soldier like your boy scout.” Zaeed stretched his legs out in front of him.  His boots bumped against hers. “Gonna share my whiskey with me?”

Miles eyes the bottle in her hand. “What’s it worth to you?”

“It’s my bloody bottle.”

“Possession is nine-tenths.” She waved the bottle at him, lifting her feet up to dodge his kick. “Are you being insubordinate?”

“I promise you’ll like me below _and_ above you, sweetheart.” Zaeed’s lips twisted into a smug grin. “Want a demonstration?”

Miles lifted the bottle for a second time. “Think you could keep up?”

Zaeed grabbed her by the legs to pull her across the room into his lap. “Why don’t we find out?”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Miles: http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/135807852281


End file.
